Way back in the Dark Ages, before writing teen lit was the thing for Mormon writers to do, there was Jack Weyland. With snappy dialogue, likable characters and uplifting plotlines, he captured the hearts of LDS readers with his young-at-heart novels. Among the author's many devoted fans were my parents. I'll never forget the family road trip when my mom kept my dad awake by reading Charly out loud to him while he drove. The story, particularly the part about the newlywed couple living in an apartment with a shower in the kitchen, made them laugh so hard they could barely breathe. We kids gaped at them from the backseat, wondering if, perhaps, our parents were completely off their rockers. It was only later, when I started reading Weyland for myself, that I began to appreciate the author's wit and charm.

It's been a long time since I picked up a Weyland novel, but It All Started With Autumn Jones caught my eye. There's just something so wholesome and appealing about that cover, don't you think? So, when the fine folks at Deseret Book sent me a copy of the book to review, I dove into it right away. And ... found it a little disappointing. Actually, a lot disappointing. Maybe I judged the book too harshly, expecting it to be laugh-'til-I-suffocate funny, or maybe Brother Weyland is losing his touch a little or, well, I'm not sure. All I know is It All Started With Autumn Jones felt way too hollow to me - the plot was unrealistic, the characters flat, and the whole thing was just over-the-top preachy. Even for an LDS novel.

The story goes something like this: 21-year-old Nick Baxter is a senior at Gresham University, a prestigious (and fictitious) college near Chicago. If he can make it through his last semester as an undergrad with decent grades, getting into Harvard Law should be a snap. Nick's prepared to coast through Contemporary Issues, a course taught by the notoriously difficult Dr. Penstock. Since everyone knows the only way to get an A out of the insufferable professor is to agree with everything he says - no matter what - that's exactly what Nick plans to do.

Enter Autumn Jones. The pretty, 23-year-old return missionary obviously missed the memo about agreeing with Penstock. She seems intent on disagreeing with everything he says. As an RM himself, Nick knows he should be siding with Autumn, standing with her as she defends her beliefs in front of the class. But he needs an A. He doesn't need Autumn - or does he?

When the two decide to band together to teach their professor a thing or two, Nick and Autumn begin a working relationship that feels like something more. At least to Nick. Autumn's already writing to Elder Perfect and Nick gets the distinct feeling that he's not measuring up by comparison. Can he convince Autumn to give him a chance? Can he convince Penstock to give him a passing grade? Can he convince himself that, come graduation time, he can let go of the most frustrating and stimulating girl he's ever met?

It All Started With Autumn Jones definitely has the potential to be a fun, heartwarming LDS rom-com. And it is funny in places. Unfortunately, though, the story's just not developed well enough to completely pull it off. I wanted the characters to actually have personalities, I wanted them to banter in clever ways, I wanted to be surprised by plot twists, and I really, really wanted the story to be faith-promoting in a non-cheesy, non-preachy way. Didn't happen. So, am I giving up on Jack Weyland? Of course not. Now, I'm even more determined to read him. I may have to go back to his earlier novels to recapture that golden, sitting-in-the-backseat-watching-my-parents-laugh-'til-they-cry feeling, but I will find it. Oh yes, I will.

Is there a busy mom who loves to cook on your Christmas list this year? Well, have I got a gift suggestion for you! Earlier this year, Sara Wells and Kate Jones, two young LDS moms, published a cookbook called Our Best Bites: Mormon Moms in the Kitchen. Do the authors' names sound familiar to you? They should. Wells and Jones run Our Best Bites, a cooking blog frequented by hundreds of followers and subscribers. While you can get their recipes for free on the site, I was still excited when the good people over at Deseret Book sent me a copy of the cookbook to review.

As Jock tries to talk some sense into his grandpa, he learns some hard, but enlightening truths about family, friendship and what really matters in the "Big Game of Everything," otherwise known as life.

The Big Game of Everything, a YA novel by Chris Lynch, is skimpy on plot, but big on heart. It's a funny, quirky little novel that's simply about a teenage boy's concern for the grandfather he adores. With no love triangles, no vampires, and no excursions into Faerie land, it may sound a little dull to teenage readers - it's not. Nor is it terribly exciting. However, it's a sweet, entertaining book that will more than likely make you laugh out loud. I can't say I loved The Big Game of Everything, I can say I enjoyed it.

(Readalikes: Hm, I can't really think of anything. Can you?)

Grade: B-

If this were a movie, it would be rated: PG for vague (except in the case of Jock's grandma) references to sex

To the FTC, with love: I received a finished copy of The Big Game of Everything from the generous folks at HarperTeen. Thank you!

When they ruin any chance of career advancement in the state of Illinois by having a scandalous affair, college history professor Frank Nichols and teacher Dora Chambers retreat to the countryside. Frank has inherited a home in a small Georgia town called Whitbrow and, while it's a little isolated and creepy, living out in the boonies definitely beats bunking at Frank's brother's apartment. Even though his aunt urges Frank not to move in, to sell the place immediately, Frank dismisses her warnings as the ravings of a senile old woman. He wants to write a history of his family's plantation, which he knows was nearby. What better way to immerse himself in the project than to live on site? Besides, it's not like he and Dora have many other prospects.